


How Angela Ziegler Gave Up Wine

by BullySquadess



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Almost Caught, F/M, Making Babies, alcohol use, brigette is gay because i say so, commission, smut towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 09:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19850371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: A Healing Arrow (Hanzo/Mercy) fic commissioned by @jack-bauer-afarmerfromillinois.





	How Angela Ziegler Gave Up Wine

It was about halfway through  Torbjörn’s  _ highly detailed _ account of Brigette’s conception that Hanzo Shimada realized he wasn’t nearly drunk enough for this shit. Hoping to rectify the situation as quickly as possible, he reached for the flask at his hip, only to be stopped by a slender hand snatching it out from under him.

“Alcohol abuse is the number one leading cause of liver problems in adults,” Angela informed him for perhaps the hundredth time. 

Hanzo quirked a brow at her own half-finished glass. “When did they take the alcohol out of wine?”

“All things in moderation,” she replied primly, taking another sip of Chardonnay. Hypocrite that she was. Angela yelped an affronted “Hey!” as her boyfriend stole her drink right out from under her, downing half the glass in a heartbeat.

“Just looking out for your liver,” he said, letting slip the barest hint of a smile. Angela hid a smile of her own behind a theatrical pout, eyeing his flask before taking a quick swig. She grimaced as it went down. Nearly three years into their relationship and she still hadn’t developed a taste for the bitter drink.

(Apart from when she sampled it from his lips, that is.)

“Now, once she was all good and ready, I put on my lucky knees socks, which I’ve worn while making each and every one of my children, and then we-”

“Pleeeeaaassseee… no more…” Brigette interrupted in a wail, covering her ears in an attempt to block her father’s words. The other agents gathered around the table laughed at their newest recruit’s reaction, having gotten used to these sort of anecdotes years ago. It was nearly tradition at this point: Plan mission. Complete Mission. Listen to Torbjörn chronicle the birth of his children on the dropship ride home and drink enough that you forget what he said the next morning. The true Overwatch experience.

“Aw, but I haven’t even gotten to the good part!” Torbjörn protested. “Besides, you should be taking notes. Shouldn’t be too long now before you start making little grandkids of your own hmmmm?” His daughter rolled her eyes.

“Papa, we’ve been over this. I am a  _ whole _ lesbian.” 

“And? Does that mean you can’t get pregnant? What ever happened to getting creative?!” 

Brigette coughed, muttering into her closed fist, “Hana and I get plenty creative, thank you.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” Reinhardt cut in, slapping one large hand against the shorter man’s back. “The less Lindholm’s running around this planet the better!”

Torbjörn grumbled a curse, chasing it with gulp from his flagon. “All I’m saying is her biological clock is ticking. Isn’t that right, Doc?” 

“Brigette has many childbearing years left ahead of her,” Angela answered, sending the aforementioned woman a warm smile. “That is, if she ever chooses to go down that path.”

“Bah! What do you know?”

“Quite a lot, if my three Ph.Ds mean anything to you.”

“I meant, what do you know about  _ parenthood?”  _ Torbjörn shot back. “Your fancy pants medical school might have taught you all the science-y crap, but you couldn’t possibly understand the real value of being a parent.” His gaze grew sharp. “Unless you’ve got a couple of lil blue-eyed brats running around I don’t know of…?”

Angela snorted, quickly covering the rude sound with a clearing of her throat. “I’ve spent the last twenty years going from one war-zone to the next. Just when would I have found the time for a pregnancy?”

“You’d be surprised,” Ana replied rather dryly. Angela balked.

“I’m sorry, I never meant…”

The older woman waved her off. “No, you make a good point. My pregnancy was a pain in my ass, among other places. But I knew I wanted to be a mother, so I stuck it out.” She gestured across the room to where her inebriated daughter hung trapped in the communal basketball hoop. “Now look what I have to show for it.” 

“Hey!” Fareeha groused. “I resent that!” She kicked in irritation, sending the equally drunk cowboy once clinging to her muscular legs crashing to the floor with a curse.

“Hush, Habibiti. You know I’m only teasing,” Ana soothed. She took another long sip of her beverage, something warm and spiced that (if consumed in high enough quantities) brought the most brilliant flush to her cheeks, and leveled her gaze on Angela once more. “I guess what I’m saying is, there is never a ‘good’ time to have a child. Not in our line of work. If it’s something you want, you have to make time. Convenient or not.”

Angela cleared her throat, a little unnerved by how tempting this all was. “And I suppose you all expect me to miraculously conceive on my own?”

“You of all people know there are plenty of alternatives to traditional pregnancies, Dr. Zeigler. The powers of medical science and all that.” Ana's keen eye landed on Hanzo. “Or you could just ask the man sitting next to you to help.”

Despite the loud Electric Polka (Reinhardt’s choice) music still booming through the dropship, the table grew quiet. Angela busied herself drinking, unable to face her partner’s expression. 

Finding himself suddenly at the center of everyone’s attention, Hanzo lifted a single brow, reaching towards the snack bowl and popping a lone peanut in his mouth. “I would not be opposed to the idea.”

Sake burned even more shooting out her nose than it did going down her throat, Angela quickly learned.

“Eh… e-excuse me?” she choked, eyes watering through the sting and mind reeling with what she’d just heard. Perhaps she was drunk and hallucinating. Yes, that had to be it. Because there was no way in hell Hanzo “Family Problems” Shimada had just alluded to wanting to be a  _ father. _

At her incredulous stare, the man simply shrugged, passing her a napkin to wipe up what she’d promptly snorted out. “The Shimada clan is a mockery of what it once was. My brother and I saw to that. But it is not past redemption. All it needs is an heir, someone to lead where I could not, and the Shimada name will once again be worthy of respect.” Hanzo swirled the golden wine around it’s stemmed glass, looking thoughtful. “Perhaps three heirs. Just in case two of them try to kill one another.”

Once again, the table fell into silence, broken only by a distinctively Swedish laugh.

“Wonderful!” Torbjörn boomed, raising his drink. “Let me know if you need any tips for getting the job done. Ingrid swears by the Wheelbarrow position for quick conception. See, what you gotta do is get her on her hands and knees and-”

His words were halted by the simultaneous  _ clunk _ of bow and flail hitting the table. Twin gazes (one very much like his own) flashed dangerously, warning the man that any attempt to finish that sentence would end in bloodshed. Torbjörn rolled his one good eye.

“Buncha’ prudes,” he muttered, draining the rest of his stein. 

“Hanzo?” Angela whispered from behind her napkin, covering the words with a delicate cough. “A word, please?”

Hanzo nodded, sliding out from the bench so she could do the same. The hydraulic doors of the cockpit let out a hiss as they approached the front of the dropship, then another as it sealed the pair in the empty bay, then all that could be heard was the soft beeping sound of ATHENA’s autopilot procedures. The hour was late, as evidenced by the dark, cloudy skies that rolled past, but the cabin was lit up by many dozens of softly blinking lights, creating a sort of intimate starscape within the otherwise sterile-looking cockpit.

“I can kill the dwarf if you’d like,” Hanzo offered, bowling back a bit as a familiar pair of lips muffled the end of his sentence. Still, he melted into the kiss quickly, wrapping one tattooed arm around his partner’s slender waist and leaning back against the nearest flight control module.

“What I’d like is for you to put a baby inside me," Angela admitted between kisses, biting her lip as he leaned back in surprise.

“Now?” Hanzo questioned, wide eyes glancing around the cockpit before returning to her face.

Angela nodded, flushing. “Ana was right, there is no best time. But I want this.” Her hands, slender but work-worn, came up to cup his whiskered jaw. “I want a family with you.”

“I want that too,” Hanzo murmured, his expression at once serious and tender. “But shouldn’t this wait until we get back to Gibraltar?”

“I won’t be ovulating when we get back to Gibraltar,” Angela countered.

Hanzo wrinkled his brow, testing the foreign word on his tongue. “Oh-vyuh…”

“Ovulating,” Angela repeated, in only  s lightly less accented English. Impulsively, she kicked off her nursing shoes, peeling herself out of her under-armor and reveling in the way her boyfriend’s jaw dropped. Stepping back into his embrace, she whispered low into his ear. “It means if you bend me over this control console and fuck me senseless you’ll be holding the next little Shimada nine months from now.”

Whether from her words or her actions, the man shivered, leaning back to lock their gazes. Angela bit her lip at the hungry way he regarded her, feeling herself grow wet(er) in anticipation. 

“Athena,” Hanzo ordered, never breaking eye contact.

“What can I do for you?” came the slightly-robotic response.

“Lockdown the cockpit.”

“Belay that,” Angela said, quickly shimmying out of underwear. Her underthings were nothing special, just a functional set of plain grey cotton briefs and matching sports bra, yet Hanzo eyed the display like it was the most erotic striptease he’d ever seen. “People will get suspicious if we lock ourselves in here. We’ll just have to be quick and quiet.”

Hanzo shook his head, chuckling softly under his breath. “Since when are we ever quick and quiet?” 

“If you’re having doubts, I’m sure Torbjörn wouldn’t mind giving us some pointers.” Angela giggled breathlessly. Hanzo growled in response, hands grabbing for her hips only to be waved away. “Hold on a moment.” Angela felt up the column of her neck until she found the tiny conception inhibitor placed at the base of her skull, hissing a bit as she disengaged the studs and removed it from her skin. She’d definitely have a small scab there for a while, but it was a small price to pay for instantly reversible, 100% effective birth control.

(She should know, she’d helped develop the technology.)

“There,” she said, taking a further moment to lock the flight control console before hopping up on its surface and spreading her legs in invitation. “Now, get over here~”

Hanzo wasted no time in obeying, tearing off his own shirt and dropping his pants around his ankles. He was half-hard already at the thought of what they were about to do, and all it took was a few strokes of her deft hand before he was standing at full attention, ready to fill her to both their heart’s content. The way his fingers found her center, coating themselves in her slick before slipping inside was effortless. They’d done this enough times that he knew just where to touch her to get her ready to take him. Two digits, curled slightly to rub against her forward wall, soon became three, and Angela panted as she slowly fucked herself on them. 

That pant soon turned to a soft keen as she suddenly found herself empty, then morphed into a contented hum when she felt him line the head of his cock up with her entrance. Just like with his fingers, Hanzo took a moment to coat himself with her wetness, groaning at the sensation of her warm and waiting against him. Angela muffled the noise with a scorching kiss.

“Quick and quiet, remember Schatzilein?” she cooed. Her boyfriend huffed, though the sound was fond, and his breath felt electric against her kiss-tender lips.

“I’m not the one you should worry about staying quiet,” he husked, slowly sinking inside her. 

Angela’s hand immediately flew to her mouth, sealing over her lips and trapping her moan inside. She clenched hard around his familiar girth, her muscles pulsing as if to draw him closer, and with the first expert snap of his hips against her own Angela knew he was right. Hanzo set a deep, brutal pace, his thumbs digging into her hip bones as he panted against her neck. Her own free hand clutched the console below, desperately trying to stay upright as he pounded into her. It was sudden, intense, and all that she wanted, supercharged by the knowledge of what they were trying to accomplish. What they were going to make together.

“You will take it,” Hanzo murmured into her collarbone, slowing his thrusts only to adjust the angle into something impossibly deeper. Something that made her see stars. “You will take it inside you.”

Dirty talk had never been either of their strong suits, considering they were both trying to speak in their second language, but Angela didn’t much care what Hanzo said when they were together like this. Nor did she care what language he said it in. As long as it was his deep voice growling and crooning and moaning sweet nothings into her ear, she would be a puddle every time. Just like she was right now. She nodded frantically, not trusting herself to remove her hand from her mouth. Her near-constant whines, interspersed with moans whenever he grazed that over-sensitive spot inside her were loud enough as it was, and that was with her fingers muffling the majority of the volume. 

“You are so wet,” Hanzo went on, his voice nearing the edge of desperation. Angela could tell he was close, and it only made her burn hotter. “Are you going to come?”

Another nod.

“You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?”

Another muffled sob.

It was frankly a little embarrassing how much she was turned on by this; Turned on by fucking in an empty cockpit with her team members just a room away. The thought that they could get caught at any moment should have worried her, should have dampened her enjoyment of what was sure to be a pivotal moment in her life. Instead the risk excited her to no end. Angela almost,  _ almost _ wished someone would come in, so they could see how good they were together. How well they fit.

Hanzo filled her beautifully, _perfectly_. He fucked her until her toes curled against the back of his strong calves, an orgasm sneaking up on her until it had spread to encompass her entire body. He cursed as clamped down on his cock, yet it was nothing compared to the desperate, muffled scream that vibrated out from behind her palm. Shuddering, Angela rode out her pleasure, watching through half-lidded eyes as her partner chased his own release. His pace had stuttered with her sudden climax but Hanzo was quick to adjust. A couple moments and a few sharp thrusts later, his hips stilled against hers, pressing hard as he emptied deep within her. As the aftershocks abated, the pair fell lax into each other’s embrace.

“Thank you,” Hanzo murmured after they’d caught their collective breath, brushing a few strands of white-blonde hair from her sweaty forehead before pressing a kiss in its place.

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Angela echoed, stroking the ends of his beard and marvelling at what they’d just done. Totally blissed out, she examined his handsome face. There he was. The man she loved. The man she wanted to have a baby with. The man who’d just fucked her within an inch of her life aboard a fully populated dropship without anyone suspecting a-

The couple jumped at a sudden banging on the cockpit door.

“You Lovebirds done gettin’ busy in there? We’re bustin’ open the second cask an’ I’m gonna need a doctor by the time I'm a-done drinkin’.” 

The words were interrupted by an uproar of muffled laughter, mixed with shouts of “Congratulations!”, before McCree finally yelled at them to shut up.

“Oh, an’ might I suggest ‘Jesse’ as a baby’s name? It’s unisex!”

At the sound of retreating cowboy boots, Angela groaned, plopping her dangerously flushed face against her boyfriend’s shoulder and dreading the inevitable  _ slaughter _ she was about to walk back into. Her teammates would never, _never_ let her live this down, and she was certain half of Gibraltar would already know what their lead medic had gotten into the second their ship touched land. And  _ God _ , when her clinical students caught wind of this? She was toast. Over. They would never look at her with the same respect again.

Buried as she was in his embrace, Angela missed Hanzo’s smug expression, the man smiling as he rubbed soothing circles against his girlfriend’s (and, if he were lucky, mother of his future child’s) lower back.

Perhaps in a few years he’d be telling Torbjörn some stories of his own...


End file.
